The truth is that the only things that wizened old edict teaches us is not to listen and not to speak. To sweep devastation under bulging carpets and hope it will decompose on its own. To fix a fine face and cement it on. As this year is demonstrating to us loudly and on repeat, those awful ideas have an expiry date. And it is right about now.

Our feelings are our first language. They shape our experience of the world and the people in it. No one ever forgets how another made them feel, though they may well scaffold it with rationale and reframe. There is no benefit to this approach for the scaffolder. A toll will be paid at a later date when the ground quakes and the clumsy obscuration falters and collapses.

The most healing thing you can offer someone is to simply listen. Without overlaying your ideas or trying to match what you hear to your experience. Holding space for another never requires you to fill it up with yourself. Empathy is not presuming you know how another feels because you sense it. That is your own unheard self speaking and dressing itself up as another.

This week as Mercury prepares to finally depart Cancer he runs the gauntlet in opposition to the Capricorn congress. He starts today by squaring off with Mars whippersnapping in Aries, fire clashing with water. Most of the shouting that ensues will be wildly projectionist as tempers flare and communication falters. But what lies beneath the bluster and guff are true feelings worth tuning into, if you care to listen.

Still, there be fuckery afoot. Take care out there, darklings. Stay tethered to your truth, no matter the meteors that flame a trail across your day. And remember, everyone is protecting something tender and wounded that isn't calling for your salty fingers. Perhaps just a kindly ear.

Art by Fab Ciraolo

Words c. Kerrie Basha 2020